Here's to the damned, the lost and forgotten
by opheliaholmes
Summary: Baced on BBC Sherlock TV shows. Post-Reinchenbach. Sherlock and Irene have a teenage daughter but they're [OBVIOSLY] not living together. Sherlock i not come back, Ophelia is devistae and CAUTION:there will be self harm and shit like that
1. unforgettable annaversiries

"Please, Ophelia, come out! "John pleaded through the door.

"Leave me alone, John!"

"Please come out! Ophelia, for goodness sake! It's your birthday!"

"Exactly my point!"

'Grrrrr, Ophelia thought, Uncle John could be sooo annoying! Couldn't he fucking realize she was in pain and that her fucking hormones were working up again?! Ugh, so fricking annoying!'

John sighed mentally. Ophelia Irene Holmes was sometimes just downright impossible!

Don't get me wrong, Ophelia had everything a girl could wish for. She had beauty and wit after her mother but wisdom, tallness and black, silky locks after her father. On top of all she was very, very, very talented. She danced from classic to jazz, ballet to hip-hop. She sang like a lark, and played the violin, piano, flute and guitar. She spoke and wrote in 4 languages fluently, English, Spanish, French and German and was on a quest to learn Mandarin and Hindustani. Her self-defense was amazing, she knew tai quan do, knuckle boxing and how to shoot from a gun. Some even say that her deduction skills are better than her fathers. She was pure genius, yet she had one flaw…Ophelia, unlike her father, was not a sociopath…she had feelings (but can hide them in a mask of calmness very well).

And yet, her impossibleness is possible to explain with pain. It may have been the 15th anniversary of her birthday; it was also the 1st anniversary of the now infamous Sherlock's Holmes death.

'"_Come on now little girly", the beefy man snarled while pushing her up the stairs by her arm," don't you want to see you daddy?"_

'_Oh no! Daddy's in trouble!Ohmigod!Moriaty's got him!' Tears sprang into Ophelia's eyes._

"_No, no, no, no, no", she kept muttering until it sounded like one word._

_As the kidnapper pushed her out of the door, he produced a gun, a __9x19 mm__Walther P99__, __German__semi-automatic pistol__, throwing the knife that was pressed to her throat away._

"_Don't think of any tricks little girly, or there won't be just one dead Holmes today", he said chuckling._

'_Oh shit, when I get my hands on Moriaty!'Ophelia now on the contraire of being frightened, she was oh sooo livid!_

_As the man pulled/pushed her towards the ledge, she gave no trouble which really annoyed the bulldog-like kidnapper. As they got closer to the eave, he gave her a violent push, causing her to almost fall over the edge, but after years of gymnastics, her balance was incredible. _

"_Looky there girly, see?", he pointed to the building across," See, your Pops is going to jump off and plumage!, he's going to be a bigger mess then spilled pudding!"_

_Ophelia struggled through his hands, trying to get out, but vainly. His humongous, beefy hands held her in spot, but the second she laid eyes on Moriaty, she froze._

_The dude chuckled. "Finally noticed that I'm not your match?"_

_Sherlock came out. "Ahh, there's our victim of the day!"_

_Her heart in her throat, she watched as Moriaty and Sherlock talked. The waiting, the fear of something awful to happen was excruciating. They talked and talked and talked. As they shook hands a flicker of hope rose in her heart. But it went out with a gush of surprise and fear blew it out as Moriaty shot himself._

"_NO!" Ophelia understood that Sherlock had found a loophole, but Moriaty was ready to do whatever had to be done to have the last word, to win this stupid great game. She stomped on the kidnapers' toes with her doc matins, as he yell in pain, Ophelia snatch the gun and pointed at him. 'Lay on the floor , hands on head and don't move or I'll shoot you.', He started to move but she shooted right in front of his face, "I'm serious. __**Don't. Move.**__" The pathetic excuse of a kidnaper whimpered._

_Ophelia looked up to her father and found him on the phone, talking to someone as he raised his arm, she saw John. He was standing in front of some gas station, looking up at Sherlock. She watched him shake his head in disbelief. This phone call to his only friend was his note, suicidal note. Tears formed in Ophelia's eyes. This was not possible to happen, the incredible Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective in the world could not die. _

"_No", she whispered, "This can't be happening…"_

_But it was and John was running to Sherlock but got knocked down by a biker. Ophelia registered all these things but she was numb, they entered her brain but got kick out… _

_Her father was saying something. She shook and saw him mouth his last words… 'I love you, happy birthday, goodbye." _

_A single tear fell. Never touching the ground. A ruffle of fabric. A single scream of 'no'. A splash of blood. Ophelia vomited once and fell to her knees, her stomach expelling all she ate through the whole day. She fainted. _

_She was slipping in and out of consciousness, once seeing John shouting at her to stay with him, tasting salty tears on her lips. 'Daddy' was whispered. The many faces on doctors, a bright, white, sterile room. Ophelia finally woke in her room with the sounds of John making tea. "A dream, it was all a dream, daddy's probably arguing with Lestrade." _

_John knocked at her door. "Hey, are you up?" "Yeah, sure, come in." John came in with a tray of tea and French toast. "Oh John, you shouldn't have." "Oh whatever Ophelia, you were out for 3 days, you should be starving." "Odd enough I'm not. You know John?, I had the weirdest dream ever, that Sherlock committed suicide….Really weird dream right?" she took a sip of lavender tea, "Mmmm, thanks John, my favorite tea and the toa…." Ophelia trailed off when she saw the look on Johns face. "What? What's wrong? Oh no, please it can't be true no, John please tell me was it just a dream!"Ophelia pleaded, "JAWN!Say something!" By now she was shaking him and hot tears where falling down her face. "I'm sorry Ophelia, I.., it's true, but it wasn't suicide' his voice was getting hysterical', Moriaty made him or else he would have killed us. I'm sorry but know that he loved you, and I love you." John hugged Ophelia very hard, her sobs muffled by his shirt.'_

Ophelia remembered that day very well, the taste of bile and the sickening sound of bone hitting ground. She stripped off her pajama and put on the favorite blue/purple galaxy leggings and Sherlocks shirt, the wine purple one, the one always made fun of him, calling it the 'purple shirt of sex' because it was so tight and well, sexy. And now she was wearing it. The slight though brought a tiniest smile of tiny smiles. Ophelia put on her trusty Doc Martins (with pop out blades, John installed them after months of begging) and beloved black beanie with she got on her 13th birthday. The thought of birthdays wipe the smile of her face. She pushed her purple bangs out of her face and grabbed her old Indian style bag with all her essentials. Ophelia rechecked them; 2 packs of cigarettes, a bottle of perfume to cover the smell of the smoke, an emergency box of pads, 100 pounds, her ID, 3 packs of tissues , pencil and A3 pad of paper and the most important, the blades from a unused razor. "Hey John I'm going out!" "Now you wait young lady, " but Ophelia was already out, he could hear her hey footfalls in the stairs. John ran to the window and saw her fast walking. 'Of course, he thought, if shes in that outfit she won't come home for another 7 hours. Hmpf.'


	2. the life we bleed

**Disclaimer:*shuffles important looking papers*… *clears throat* it seems I own nothing and has to keep reminding me :/ **

**Sooo, ahem, chapter two…. There is self-harm and drug use….you have been warned**

Ophelia fast walked to the little ally. There, she could always contact her homeless network. Turning a corner she though that a joint and the 'Silent Assassins' could cheer her up.

"Yo wassup gurrrrrl!" yelled out Jumper, something of a leader of the gang. "Nothing much, it's my b-day, and you know…," looking up and pretending to be cheerful, "I need a joint." The Silent Assassins' shut up, they know the story of Sherlock's death all too well, Jumper and Alicia were there and witnessed it. Passing a few joints around, Rocky gave Ophelia two with a smile; he had a crush on her since second grade. Ophelia smiled back, Rocky was beautiful and really sweet. Dark, velvety skin with a mop of curls, not so different from Ophelias, with a really sweet smile and eyes you can trust. Alicia pulled out a lighter and lit everyone's joint. A few minutes later most everyone was crying, Ophelia the most, talking about how she loved her father and how she wanted him to come back. Being in the state she was, she didn't notice a pale face with black curls peeking from behind a building at her and whispering 'I love you 'Phee'…

After smoking out two joints, and rather high, Ophelia stumbled to her hiding spot, an emergency ladder concealed by trees. She ran, jumped, and grabbed the railing, hoisting herself up onto it. Sitting down comfortably (on a pillow she always left there) Ophelia took out her cigarettes and razors. Lighting a cigarette, she pulled her sleeve up. Her left wrist was butchered, saying simply. She sighed. She had no other choice, this was her coping system. Sighing again, Ophelia put the razor blade by her wrist, pressed down hard and pulled across. Even though she has been doing this for almost 2 years, she still watches with mild fascination. Tears fell from her cheeks and mingled with the blood, washing it off her arm. Yet those were not tears of pain… they were tears of hurt…

Repeating the process, with a drag of the cigarette in between, the metal grate, and ground below were covered in many droplets of blood. Soon after Ophelia cleaned up with tissues, pressed a tissue to her arm and had one more fag. Once done, she sprayed herself in perfume and climbed down the steps. As the steps swung up, she exchanged tissues, for through the other one, blood had already soaked in. ''Hmmm…rather deep. It'll take up to two weeks to heal…''she mumbled under her breath.

After getting a cup of vanilla latte from Starbucks to go, Ophelia sat down. She took out a little tin box that Rocky slipped in to her bag when he thought she wasn't looking. It was filled with marijuana leaves and a small note.

'Happy birthday, 'Phee. Please be happy, u look beautiful with a smile.

Rocky 3'

Which of course caused a smile upon her face.

Taking out her earphones, she remembered the day she got them. Ophelia was staying the winter with Irene in San Diego, Cali. It was raining, and after her old earphones fell in to the ocean and 13 hours of begging and complaining, Irene took her to the World Market and let her choose any kind she wanted. After looking for almost half an hour, she chose these.Ophelia unraveled them from the big doughnut, pulled out her iPhone from the breast pocket of the plum colored shirt and typed in the code. '_I AM SHER LOCKED'. _Just the same as her mother's after all these years…

She put her pieces in her ear and chose a song that's pretty precious to her.

Music blared in her ears.

'_We come into this world unknown_

_But know that we are not alone_

_They try to knock us down_

_But the change is coming, know that we are not alone'_

A shaky sip of coffee.

'_And hey, yeah I know what you are going through,_

_Don't let it get the best of you; you'll make it out alive'_

A butterfly fluttered by.

'_Here's to the damned, to the lost and forgotten,_

_It's hard to get high when you're living on the bottom'_

A tear rolled down a marble cheek.

_And hey, this is not a funeral, _

_It's a revolution after all your tears have turned to rage'_

A shaky inhale.

'_We are all misfits living in a world on fire,_

_Sing it for the people like us'_

A leaf falling to the ground.

'_You've just got to turn it up loud when the flames get higher'_

A shiver through a spine.

'_They can't do nothing to you,_

_They can't do nothing to me_

_This is the life that we choose,_

_This is the life that we bleed'_

A sudden hand on her shoulder.

A shrill yelp of surprise.

Ophelia stood up suddenly and punched the attacker in the face.

This person fell down.

"Oh my gosh, are you ok?"

**So finally the end… sorry for taking so long but you know school is cruel.**

**Any ways the song is Kelly Clarkson's 'People like us', and that is where the title comes from. The song is precious to me, it took me out of depression, and so did Sherlock, teaching me that freaks can be loved. So um please review and favorite...**

**So um cliffhanger… who could that be?**

**Whoever guesses may be included if they wish to under any name and preferred situation.**


End file.
